Page 53 of Best Kind of Trouble
Her eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? He still blames me for that?”
A laugh sneaks out of me. “Yeah, but he said you probably don’t remember him from high school. He’s obviously wrong.”
“Oh, I remember him,” she says in a pissed-off undertone.
“The universe works in such mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” Dottie looks excited, like she thinks everyone’s going to link hands and sing “Kumbaya.” “Howremarkable. And after all these years your parents have found new love together. I suspect you’ll be seeing a lot of each other, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to put any past unpleasantness behind you. I’ve never met the young man, but his father tells such lovely, colorful stories about him and all of his inventions.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Nora snaps, clearly not ready to putanything behind her. “Men love to blame women for the problemstheycreate.”
I laugh again, lifting my hands up. “Otis and I aren’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.”
Briar fixes me with a piercing stare. “You and Otis are friends now, are you?”
“He’s taking me boxing,” Otis says, as if we’re going on a date.
“Yeah, that’s why he’s here,” I lie, wanting to keep the surprise a surprise. “But first we have something set up for y’all downstairs. We’re doing the tasting in the barrel room.”
Briar’s brow pinches. “We should do it up here.”
She thinks I’m trying to embarrass her by bringing her successful guest down to a dark, dank, shitty little room.
“Otis helped set it up,” I say. “Took us a long time. Lots of glasses.”
Truthfully, I had no idea how many people she was bringing, so the only thing we have set up are the beer bottles and a leaning tower of shot glasses, but I moved a couple of barrels over in case more seating was needed than the intimate duo of chairs Otis got from the estate sale.
“Fine,” Briar says stiffly, still obviously as annoyed with me as Nora is with Cormac.
I let Otis lead the way, figuring the kid deserves some glory.
Dottie follows him through the door to the back, trailed by Nora, but Briar hangs back, giving me a look that nearly makes me laugh again, even though it would obviously piss her off if I did.
It’s not my fault she’s cute when she’s mad.
When she’s mad. When she’s drunk. When she’s boxing…
“Did you have to say that about Cormac?” she whisper-hisses.
“Sure. It’s true, and I prefer for things to be out in the open.”
“That’s not why you did it,” she accuses, her eyes fastened on mine. “You wanted to cause trouble. You love causing trouble.”
I stare right back. “Maybe it’s trouble that loves me.”
I can almost feel the tension radiating between us, like heat shimmering over blacktop in the middle of summer. Without thinking, I reach over and smooth a mussed part of her hair.
Her lips part, and I’m sure she’s going to blast into me. Remind me that I’m her employee, and I was the one who wrote those rules. She’d be right to do it.
But a voice drifts toward us through the wooden door. “Simply remarkable. Oh, Briar dear, come take a look. You must see this.”
Briar’s lips part further, and I let myself imagine what it would be like to sayfuck itand kiss her. To suck that full bottom lip into my mouth and spear my hand into her soft hair.
My mouth goes dry as I watch her turn away and walk through the door without another word.
I want to go with her. I want to watch her take in the room—the manifestation of her vision. I’d love to soak in her sweet smile.
Which is exactly why I don’t.
Let Otis keep her initial excitement for himself. He’s done more to earn it.
